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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25684822">All Too Well</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/momjeansenthusiast/pseuds/momjeansenthusiast'>momjeansenthusiast</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Post blip, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Secret Children, Steve Rogers Feels, Stubborn Steve Rogers, Super Reader, Time Travel, Tony doesn't die</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:20:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,430</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25684822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/momjeansenthusiast/pseuds/momjeansenthusiast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You'd been with the avengers for a long time, joining the team the same time as Bucky. You were born with special abilities, eventually dubbed 'Siren' by the team. Soon after, you and Steve fell in love. Until Thanos snapped away half of the world's population.<br/>After the war, just as you'd begun to think the world could right itself, that you and Steve could be happy again, your world broke apart even further than you could have imagined.<br/>Steve left you, left everyone, to return to the 1940's with Peggy.<br/>What are you to do when he comes back to your time and finds you having left the avengers and now raising your child alone?</p><p>** Vaguely inspired by All Too Well from Taylor Swift**</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>191</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prolouge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The moment you saw Wanda fade away into dust, you began screaming. Your voice blew the Wakandan jungle apart, leveling the terrain nearly a hundred meters out. Sobs echoed loudly in the surrounding nature, reverberating and crashing back into you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You saw Steve in the distance, looking older and more numb than you’d seen him before. He was waiting for you to stop, so he could safely approach; he’d fallen victim to your sonic-scream once before and had no intention of repeating the experience. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sucked in a few shuddering breaths and fell silent, nodding your head to signal you were done. Steve approached, calm and collected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky?” you asked, voice hardly above a whisper in fear of losing your already slipping control. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tightening of his jaw and small jerk of his head let you know what happened. He’d just lost his best friend after getting him back, </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You so desperately wanted to comfort him but there was no way to properly do so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s once light blue eyes were cold and dark, detached from the hellscape he was facing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. Let’s count the…” He paused, unsure of what state those who had been “dusted” were in, “Count who we lost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked away silently, not once offering you a sign of comfort. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Nearly a month later when Steve and the rest of the team returned from their mission in space, you knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d failed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve never spoke to you about losing Bucky, but to be fair you didn’t have the strength to talk about Wanda either, much less Natasha when you’d thought her gone forever. Your days together were spent in a numbing daze, a hollow silence filling most of your time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Each night you lay in bed together he falls asleep first, heavy and hard. He didn’t struggle with nightmares like you did. You felt so alone even though he was merely inches away. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Eventually, you decided to postpone the wedding, feeling as if it wouldn’t be right to have it without everyone you loved there, even the “blipped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The years past and you and Steve fell into a comfortable rhythm of pretending to be okay. You hoped and prayed that the ever growing distance between the two of you would fade either with time or when you finally avenged the lost. That hope was the only thing keeping your relationship together.  </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>After the fight with Thanos, you tended to the wounded, hugging and crying at all the familiar faces that surrounded you, faces you’d thought lost forever. Your reunion with Wanda included so much hugging, you were confident you would have a small arm shaped bruise forever indebted into your ribs. You didn’t mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You noticed Steve’s absence as you helped console Peter, who’d just seen his mentor fall into a terrible coma, once he feared he could never wake from. You’d last spoken to Steve after he lifted Mjölnir, but hadn’t seen him much since. You assumed he too was reconnecting with his lost comrades. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>After Steve returned from returning the stones, bringing Natasha with him, a new hope bloomed in your chest. You began to think that everything could go back to the way it was, before Thanos, before he left the Avengers, back when you were happy together. You were practically buzzing with excitement upon his return, finally ready to share your news with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your curious eyes watched from afar as he handed Sam his shield, confused by the gesture. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’d mentioned retiring but I thought he would’ve told me first, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you thought. His sad eyes caught yours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take a walk with me, Y/N,” He said, holding out his hand for you to hold. You strolled around the green field, taking in the sights, feeling </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> much joy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve I-” you started, about to tell him your secret. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y/N I need to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” you asked, very confused, “But, you-you just got back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” he sighed, his brow furrowing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I love you Y/N, I really do but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could feel your heart cracking, wanting to run away but feeling all too rooted in the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Peggy, isn’t it?” you asked, voice quivering but still hushed. You’d always been aware of his connection to his former love, Peggy Carter, even eighty years later, still kept home in your Steve’s mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, I love you, but-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You love her more.” you state as fact. It wasn’t a question anymore. His face fell, but he nodded, guilt coating his beautiful features. You forced your lips to turn upwards into a small smile. You walked him back to the spot where he’d just returned, shoving the secret you held in your heart deep down, hoping to never have to find it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stayed silent, ignoring the questioning eyes of Bucky and Sam, you stood as plainly as possible, imaging yourself as a statue. Unmoving, unfeeling. Seeing him leave, you kept a straight face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waved sadly as he left, but you could see the eagerness in his eyes, so excited to return to his first love. Maybe even his only love. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment Steve’s body was out of sight, you collapsed, only being held up by Sam and Bucky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y/N?!” They called, voices fading out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You welcomed the darkness eagerly, the positive pregnancy test in your back pocket pulling you to the ground like an anchor.  </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter One: Hollowed Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Chapter One: Hollow Hearted </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first few days after Steve left, you thought you were dying. The whole he carved in your chest in his absence was every growing, throbbing and aching. You couldn’t think- couldn’t eat. You simply just existed in a cataclysm of pain while the world rejoiced around you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While you were able to keep him off your mind somewhat while awake, your nightmares were haunted by blue eyes, haunting you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On your last night in the tower, you were shaken awake. Your eyes snapped open, ready to be on the defense to the threat in your room. Lucky for you, it was just Sam and Natasha who shared walls on either side of you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y/N are you okay?” Nat asked, her voice soft as she sat on the edge of your much too empty bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You flung your body around hers, holding her close, trying to choke back the sobs that threatened to escape. You hadn’t seen anyone since the day of the fight, unable to leave your bed much less your room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment, when Natasha didn’t say anything, you pulled back as memories of the days before began trickling in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her green eyes grew softer, something resembling pity filled her gaze. Her lips parted slightly, a heavy exhale blowing a few loose stands of her hair. She didn’t answer but her look made it clear that your memories of the days before were real rather than a horrifying nightmare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve was gone. He left you, left the century, for Peggy. And you were pregnant with his child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” you said softly, not able to fully meet Natasha’s eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I can’t even imagine…”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shook your head and swallowed thickly, suppressing the slight quiver in your lower lip. You locked away Steve and the baby in a small box in the corner of your mind, something to be dealt with later. You forced the most genuine smile on your face that you could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Nat, I’m o-” your voice caught, unable to lie that thoroughly, “I’ll be okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You knew she didn’t believe you, but neither of you made an effort to contradict what you said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feigning normalcy, you got out of bed and proceeded to get ready. Somewhere in between changing out of your suit you still wore from the fight before and into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, Natasha left to go catch up with the others. You didn’t mind much. It gave you the chance to not have to pretend to be okay, even if only just for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since you and Steve lived together, shared a closet, everything smelt like him. A fine layer of his minty amber scent coated the space. You even had to put on perfume to try and mask his smell. Anything to keep your mind off of him</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You weren’t sure why you thought you could pretend all was well because the moment you stepped foot out of your room, it seemed the entire compound was waiting to see you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky was the first to speak. “Doll...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You glanced around at all of the faces staring back at you, Sam, Bucky, Natasha, Bruce, even Peter and Clint were there. It was all overwhelming. You knew why they were there but you weren’t ready to walk about it. Not yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You scurried away, a pathetic, unbelievable excuse tumbling out of your lips as you turned away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You went looking for Wanda, but when asked Friday, she said she was spending </span>
  <em>
    <span>quality time</span>
  </em>
  <span> with vision. You decided it best to leave them alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Desperate for a place to be without having to be reminded of Steve, you went to the one person who wouldn’t make you talk about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, in actuality, you went to Tony’s hospital room. He was still recovering from handling the gauntlet, deep in a coma. He was the safest person to be around at the moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ride in the elevator up to his private suite was short but thankfully silent. Forcing the pain from your mind only worked when it was quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You liked the quiet. You’d spent too much of your life loud. Your parents died at an early age in a car accident, but what you really remember is your grandmother’s house. She was a mean, hateful old woman but what you remember most is her voice; her screaming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She would yell at you for anything and everything. If you so much as put a toe out of line, she would unleash hell on you. You’d actually become aware of your abilities the last night you spent at her house. She was laying into you about doing the dishes and you snapped. You yelled back and consequently shattered every piece of glass in the whole house. Needless to say you were no longer welcome in her home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The penthouse medical suite was frigid, it sent a chill up your spine. You had to take a beat to collect yourself when you saw Tony. He was in his bed, frail and lifeless. His skin was pale, usually manicured facial hair showing the signs of the lacking maintenance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper wasn’t in at the moment, you assumed she was at her home with Morgan. Your heart broke for a moment, disparaging for the anguish experienced by the Stark family. You sat in one of the bland chairs adjacent to the bed. At first, you just sat as silent and still as Tony. Unable to even think, just attempting to process the insane days previous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d not allowed yourself to think of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> since he left, building a dam so high to stop the impending flood of desolation. But now in the quiet and cold solitude of Tony’s room, you allowed yourself to slowly and methodically allow a few thoughts to pass the dam. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart clenched, squeezing so tight you thought it may shatter. Your last memory of Steve played like a loop in your mind, his sad but ultimately hopeful and joyous eyes. Though he’d never made his lingering feelings for Peggy well known, they were not hard to infer. He still carried the godforsaken locket with her image in it well after he proposed to you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pain of the memory of him was a catalyst for a whole onslaught of other memories of Steve to attack your mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You remembered the first time you visited the compound. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Steve led you inside the doors, the cold burst of air causing your muscles to tense as a shiver worked its way up your spine. Despite entering a new and terrifying situation, since you were with Steve, you felt safe. At home, somehow. He’d brought you there to introduce you to the team, in hopes of having you join them. You were still bundled up inside, your scarf still secured tightly around your neck. Eventually the warmth of your new friends warmed you both inside and out, so you removed the scarf as well as much of your outerwear. Steve kept that scarf there with him, a token of your acceptance, a trophy of your presence. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The scarf </span>
  </em>
  <span>undoubtedly</span>
  <em>
    <span> sat unbothered still in his sock drawer in your room. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Now back in the also cold but lonely penthouse, you could feel the pinpricks of tears behind your eyes. You shoved them away, forcing anger to replace the despair you felt as a response to the betrayal. You wanted to scream, to cry, to punch something but you didn’t. Instead, you sat and wallowed in your own anguish. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hours later you left the sterile room, desperate to hear sounds beyond your own thoughts, Tony’s shallow breathing, and the repetitive beeps of his heart monitor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The slow and silent walk gave you time to form your resolve. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to move on. You had to, if this afternoon was any indication. You couldn’t waste away mourning the life you wanted, the life you thought you would get with Steve. You had to get on with your life, for you and your child’s sake. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Incognito</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nearly two years have passed since Steve left you, pregnant and alone. Now, you live with your son Jamie, hidden out in the countryside. </p><p>“James!” You used his full name to really pull his attention. “Who are you talking about.”</p><p>You suppose some small part of you already knew, the sick twisted part of you that still hoped; That hadn’t been turned to ash. The nearly silent voice in your head was gaining volume. </p><p>“He’s back.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The summer sun was streaming in through your bedroom window, the small hum of wildlife outside was like the most subtle but beautiful opera. Your eyes fluttered open, a shroud of calmness enveloping your senses. You were truly at peace. Just as you began to sit up, you heard a faint rustling outside your bedroom door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mamaaaaaa!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your son burst through the bedroom door, a goofy grin plastered on his dimpled cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mamma! You’re ‘wake! I'm hungry!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laughed, stretching as you stood, your body not fully awake yet. You picked up your son, James, and made your way to the kitchen to prepare him breakfast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was now two years after the battle with Thanos, two years since Steve left, and two years since you left everything and everyone behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You lived off the grid in a small cottage in upstate New York, hidden away from the Avengers and anyone else who could jeopardize your son’s safety. Well… not </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the Avengers. Sam and Bucky knew where you were, mostly for James’ sake- he loved his Uncles. But for everyone else, you’d practically vanished, only communicating through infrequent letters. Your closest friends, besides Sam and Bucky, are Wanda and Nat. It was too hard for them to see you hurting so badly, especially in the beginning, so you never brought them into your home. You planned to invite them over eventually, but still you were anxious. You were terrified of any aspect of your old life finding you and corrupting the safe haven you built for your son. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony thought it was archaic, but humored you anyways, frequently sending gadgets he made for James to play with.  Only once did it come with lasers… That was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> letter back. You kept a cell phone for emergencies, but it lived wholly untouched in a small box on your nightstand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the most part, it was just you and James. He reminded you so much of his father, at first bringing you so much pain, but now you cherish every reminder. Steve just wanted to find his own happiness, and now you had yours too. While you could never forgive Steve, if he loved Peggy even a sliver of the amount you loved him, and later James, you could at least understand why he left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> You named your child after Bucky;  he was such an instrumental part of the life you now lived, and you knew how much it would mean for Steve, if he were there. Bucky understood your pain better than everyone because he lost Steve too, he knew how bad it hurt. He helped put you back together again, helped you find your safe-haven to raise James, he really was like the best friend you could have asked for. Bucky soothed your cries at night, held your hand when you were in labor for 48 hours and even spent many nights on your couch taking care of the baby so you could get some sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam was suspicious for a while that you and Bucky might develop some feelings for each other but you both knew you were safe from anything of the sort; Bucky was more like your brother than anything else. In fact, you hadn’t had any romance in the two years </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> left. You resigned yourself to the idea that everyone gets one great love of their life, and Steve was yours. You just weren't his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You watched your son as he walked, his small feet tottling across the chilly wood floor. James looked like the most beautiful combination of Steve and yourself. He had your hair and eyes, but Steve’s same goofy smile and definitely his appetite. The boy ate like he’d never been fed before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce initially wanted to test him and see what the effects of super-soldier parent DNA would have, but you said no. You wanted James free of  that world entirely. Even still, you did watch with wonder as he grew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your miracle boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you set James in his highchair, you searched around the small kitchen for his cheerios and started the coffee machine. A boy like him requires an abundance of energy. The comforting aromas of coffee with hints of chocolate and cinnamon filled the air, and immediately you felt more alert. You smiled, thinking about Pavlov and his famous dogs and you popped some milk in a small saucepan on the store to heat it up. The poor man’s latte, you called it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Impatient, Jamie called out for his food, demanding his </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘reios’</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the morning followed in orderly fashion, playing with James until he began to become grumpy and needed to be put down for his mid-day nap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he slept you allowed yourself some free time to use your powers. You never used them in front of Jamie save for as few lullabies.  Since leaving the avengers you found yourself growing restless, wanting to use your body and your powers in the way it had been conditioned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Setting up the baby monitor, you stepped outside. The beauty of the New York countryside never failed to astonish you. You waded around in the long grass on the tree-line, breathing deeply before letting the first note escape your throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a defining crash as the sound-waves pelted into the hard wood of the old oak tree in front of you. But your voice won. It always did. The tree fell over with a loud thud while a triumphant smirk pulled at your lips. You weaved together a beautiful melody, your own voice harmonizing with itself, the birds in the trees you didn’t abuse singing along. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were always glad you had music. It was your first way to heal when you were hurt. Not just after Steve, but your whole life. You sang soft songs to yourself when you were sad, wandering the streets to pass the ever present time.  It was a comfort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your song stopped short, freezing in your throat when you heard a car approaching. No one was scheduled to stop by. You pulled back into the trees, sucking air into your lungs, preparing to throw the intruder some odd fifty feet before they could even step on your property line. You could always use charmspeak to make them leave, but you preferred to be more hidden. It was safer for James that way, you couldn’t allow yourself to get hurt. Who would be there to care for him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were about to deafen any uncovered ears within a 100 yard radius before you heard a voice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bucky</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doll?” he called, still off in the distance, waiting for you to emerge and show you weren't going to attack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stepped into the light, a sheepish blush on your cheeks. “Bucky?” You called back, approaching him slowly, “What are you doing here? You aren’t due until next week? No matter, your favorite boy will be ecstatic his Unca’ Buc’ is here” You giggled, getting closer to Bucky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wrapped your arms around his warm torso for a short hug. It wasn’t until you pulled away and really took in his expression you saw something that bothered you, but he hid the emotion quickly, forcing a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go inside,” he posed quietly, walking up the path with you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside, at your round kitchen table, a coffee firmly in both of your hands, you built up the courage to ask him what was bothering him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Buck, really. What’s wrong?” You were beginning to worry. Bucky was too quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Bucky got angry, his blue eyes hardening, breathing becoming more shattered. He began to mumble under his breath. If you didn’t have enhanced hearing you may not have been able to make out what he was saying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Prick...Selfish...Hurt her...Hurt them...Don’t need him…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“James!” You used his full name to really pull his attention. “Who are you talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You suppose some small part of you already knew, the sick twisted part of you that still hoped; That hadn’t been turned to ash. The nearly silent voice in your head was gaining volume. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You froze. No. NO. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart rate skyrocketed. It was so constant, almost like a hum. You mind raced. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s back. He’s back. He’s back. He’s back. He’s back. He’s back. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He came back for me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky was still silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your lip quivered. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not when you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally happy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not when everything was good. It can’t be. You were angry. You were so mad you wanted to level the surrounding forest. But you were too sad. The sadness always beats your anger. You could feel yourself physically pulling inward, seeking any comfort, needing to hide from what Bucky was saying to be true. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who. Is. Back?” you punctuated every word, nearly choking as you spit them out. You knew the answer but the masochistic voice in your head needed to hear it. She had been buried too long and now she is raging like a forest fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blue eyes met yours. Old eyes, sad eyes. You knew them well. They spoke the truth before Bucky could. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Steve.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>HI!<br/>Thank you all so much for such an amazing response to this fic! I am so sorry for the late update, college and stuff is just crazy rn! But I hope you enjoy! <br/>&lt;3 <br/>B</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Discovery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steve's back.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Silence rang loudly in your ears, your body rigid as chills overtook you. Gooseflesh pricked your skin. You heaved in a deep breath, your mind so frozen you’d forgotten to breathe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve’s…” you mumbled, the volume lessened by a large exhale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky watched you with sad eyes. It was a familiar look. He watched with those same eyes as you sobbed and screamed. Though time had certainly passed, it was like you were paralyzed by it. You longed to feel how you did before Steve left, be </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> girl, but you were still looking for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not to say you </span>
  <em>
    <span>weren’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> happy with Jamie, with the little life you’d built yourselves. You were happy,but as much as you’d like to deny it, you are the one who was left. Steve got to go on and be happy with someone else, and you were left like a crumpled piece of paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were left with the wreckage and the memories of a man that you remembered all too well, despite your efforts. Jamie was the glue holding you together, without him you may just have fallen apart into disrepair. But that doesn't mean you aren't still very broken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doll…” he hesitated, terrified to send you off the deep end again, “You don’t have to see him, if you don’t want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked up with watery eyes. He continued, “Sam and I, we’ll make sure he can’t find you. You can move-” You cut him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. We are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>moving. Steve has thrown my life around enough. James doesn't deserve to have his life upended just because his father is a prick.” You voice rose in intensity, threatening not only James’ sleep, but the structure of the house. It rattled in it’s foundation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay doll. No running,” Bucky soothed, “You don’t have to leave. You’re right, you deserve better.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded your head stiffly as your lip quivered, sobs locked in your throat but still shaking you nonetheless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite yourself, you began to imagine Steve with his son. Seeing the same smile on both of their cheeks, James running circles around his father, the two of them giggling on the lawn. It was too much and the dam broke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hurled yourself at Bucky, muffling your cries in his strong shoulder, staining the faded blue t-shirt stretched over his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The metal hand drew a lazy shape on your back while his flesh hand held your cheek, thumb stroking your hair. He shushed you, just like he’d done before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When you first met Bucky, he was apprehensive of your presence. You were like him, powerful but temper on a knife’s edge. He was worried of what could happen if you were set off. Still, you tried to befriend him as much as you could, for Steve’s sake. You would’ve done anything for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until your first mission alone with Bucky that you both began to trust one another. The pair of you were shoved in a tiny motel room, conducting surveillance on some Hydra transport. It wasn’t meant to be a big deal, that is until you learned that Hydra was recruiting street kids to act as their foot soldiers. To them, they were disposable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t help but see yourself in those kids, knowing you were once on the street yourself, knowing you could’ve been one of them if the team hadn't rescued you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky, while not thrilled of the change in plan, went along, covering you. You shattered the glass in the truck carrying the weapons from your hiding spot off the side of the road. Then, Bucky came in from the back, disarming the two drivers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You opened the back hatch of the truck, eyes going wide. There were thousands of guns and cases of ammunition. Bucky had wanted to destroy it but you thought better; take the weapons. Bruce and Tony could analyze them, understand where they came from and trace back to the supplier.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had been so glad when you returned with Bucky, wide smiles on both your cheeks. He’d been so happy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You squeezed Bucky tighter at the thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sniffled, pulling back and whipping your eyes. You were determined to compose yourself, you’d be damned before Steve saw you weak over him. “I assume he got the address?” You said plainly, trying to force yourself back into the feeling of normalcy you’d had just an hour ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded glumly. Guilt flooded through you. You’d not even thought to ask him how he was doing. After all, you weren’t the only one Steve left. While you and Steve suffered and grieved during the five year “blip”, for Bucky and Sam it was just a few moments. One second they were fighting in Wakanda, then he saw a new Steve, a darker Steve wielding the hammer of the gods. Then Steve left. What a whiplash that must be for them, especially now that Steve is back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You held Bucky’s hand. “How are you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Soldat</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” You said softly, smiling only with the smallest upturn of your cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held your hand back, squeezing it. “I’m… okay. I’ve lost Steve before. It’s not a new notion for him to come back and expect to be the hero.” His voice was bitter, hurt laces deeply inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Buck,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry. He doesn't deserve a friend like you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled his real smile, crinkled up around the eyes. Only when Bucky </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> smiled, could you see the years of pain this man had seen. His eyes are old and wise, despite his young face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how’s Sam?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you know the bird-man. He’s pissed but he’ll be fine, so long as Steve doesn’t ask for the shield back.” You both chuckled at that. Sam had become just as attached to the shield as Steve once was. You were glad it had a home with someone like Sam. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock from the front door echoed through the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked at Bucky worriedly, before he calmed you. “It’s just Sam. I told him to stop by, I know Jamie would be all shades of angry if he didn’t get to see both of us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You let out a sign of relief, grateful Bucky loved your son as much as he loved him. You stood, walking to the door to let Sam. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wilson,” you called before swinging the door open, “You gotta learn to knock quieter. If you wake James-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You finally looked at the frame in the door, and though it was one you knew very well- it was not Sam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blond man stood broad in the door, looking every bit as ‘good and righteous’ as he did when you saw him last. He said you name, finally drawing your eyes from staring straight at his chest to his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve?” You breathed. You felt like your legs were jelly, ready to collapse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby I-” He began, pushing his way into your home. Invading your home. Invading you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You held up your hand, dwarfed by his massive figure.  “Leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His blue eyes were wide, shocked. Under different circumstances you’d laugh, his face utterly ridiculous.  But you were not laughing now, you were angry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You suppose the anger was better than the alternative, sadness. You could’ve burst into a sobbing, snotty mess when you saw him but you didn’t. By some grace of the stars, you held yourself together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He said you name again, his voice sad. You didn’t care. “Please, baby, just-Let’s just talk.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You saw red. “Fine, Steve. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll</span>
  </em>
  <span> talk. Should I talk about the hell you left me in?” You were getting louder and you knew you needed to be quiet but you couldn’t manage it at the moment. “Or, should I talk about how I almost died when you left? Should I talk about how sad, truly </span>
  <em>
    <span>devastated</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tony was when he woke up and you were gone?” Steve’s face twisted in sadness, in pain, but you relented. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or maybe, I should talk about Sam’s nightmare with the government over your fucking shield. What about Bucky’s nightmares? </span>
  <em>
    <span>My</span>
  </em>
  <span> nightmares? Natasha’s drinking?” Wide blue eyes watch you from both men. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead Steve. What do you want to talk about?” You finished your verbal plumbing breathless, your house literally swaying under the sheer force of your volume. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were about to tell him to leave when a small voice from behind you spoke up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mamma?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your anger immediately flooded from your body. Your son was more important than anything. He always had been and always would be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You threw once last venomous glare at Steve, before turning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. Did mommy wake you?” He nodded, rubbing his eyes. Even though they were the same color as yours, they were definitively </span>
  <em>
    <span>Steve’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> eyes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You scooped the toddler up in your arms. You were trying to carry him out of the room. You could’ve gone your whole life with Steve not knowing about James, and yet here he was right in front of his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The toddler squirmed in your grasp, strong for his age. “No! No! Wanna play with Unca!” He was screaming, his little cheeks reddening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You threw a questioning look at Bucky, who stood up. “C’mon little guy!” He lagged, pulling the baby from your arms and swinging him in the air. “Your Momma said you have some new blocks…?” His voice faded as he walked away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s eyes were trained on the boy since he saw him. Watching. Analyzing. It wasn’t long before he put the pieces together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How...how old is he?” His face was still frozen in shock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked at him now, less angry, just tired. “He’s almost two.” You responded stiffly, crossing your arms in front of you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve counted for a moment. “He’s…” He swallowed, “Y/N. Is that my son?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!<br/>Be sure to check out my socials for updates!<br/>Insta: momjeansenthusiast<br/>Tiktok: momjeansenthusiastwrites<br/>&lt;3<br/>B</p></blockquote></div></div>
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